


Kindle

by headrush100



Category: Castle
Genre: Anal, F/M, Fingerfucking, Kindle, Prompt Fic, Smut, Toys
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-03
Updated: 2012-06-03
Packaged: 2017-11-06 18:47:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,035
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/421985
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/headrush100/pseuds/headrush100
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Be careful where you leave your Kindle. Prompt fic, written for runswi_scissors, using the words "traffic, frustration, analogy".</p>
            </blockquote>





	Kindle

“We’re gonna die out here,” says Castle. “If I go first, I give you permission to eat me.”

“The streets are lined with delis, so I don’t think I’ll have to resort to that, but I appreciate the offer.” They’ve been sitting in this jam for about an hour and a half now, and only crawled a few blocks.

Bored, he huffs out a breath and bounces his knee. 

She makes a death-defying merge across an intersection, and the next time she looks over at him, he’s got her Kindle open and is suspiciously quiet.

Her stomach clenches. “What?” she says, fearing the worst.

He grins, confirming it. “You’ve got a “Romance” collection on your Kindle.”

She makes a grab for it, but he fights her off. “What is it? Cowboys? Highlanders? Doctors? Ooh...” His eyes gleam. “Cops?”

She smiles. “Yep, you got me. Cops.”

_“Really?”_

She mocks him with a look. _“No.”_ And tries to distract him. “It must be a hundred degrees, still, and it’s already eight o’clock.” 

“You do look overheated. But maybe that’s because you’ve been reading about....” he trails off, brings the Kindle a little closer to him, and is silent.

This isn’t good. Either she’ll never live it down, or, God forbid, he might think she’s some kind of pervert. Or the third option...

His head swivels to look at her, but she keeps her attention firmly fixed on the back bumper of the Jeep in front. Yep. He’s found it. It keeps him quiet for about twenty minutes, until suddenly she’s aware that he’s shifting uncomfortably in his seat, and a sideways glance reveals that his jeans are feeling the strain. She heaves an inward sigh of relief, her suspicions confirmed. The third option. Of course. 

“You okay there, Rick?”

“Is there something you want to tell me, detective?” His voice is a little deeper, a little thicker, than it was the last time he spoke.

“No.”

“You’re hiding porn on your Kindle.”

“It’s _erotica_ , and I’m not hiding it, it’s just _on_ there. I mean, what’s on _your_ Kindle?” she says, maybe a little too defensively.

He smiles sweetly. “A picture of you.” Off her look, he says, “Game of Thrones.”

“And?”

“And nothing. Men’s porn isn’t Kindle-friendly.” He grins. “Does it turn you on?”

“Men’s porn? No, I can see boobs whenever I want.”

“You _know_ what I mean.” 

“Castle...”

“I ask,” he says, “because if you wanna try it, I’m game.”

Thank God the light changes just then, and she has to concentrate on the traffic for a while. He reads on, silent but for the occasional laugh or “Whoa”. A trickle of sweat runs down her temple. He still looks perfectly groomed, but for the hard on. How does he do it? The rich really are different.

They’re almost back at his apartment when he says, _“My_ safe word is ‘apples’.”

“I know. It was practically the first thing you said to me. Along with an invitation to spank you.”

“Too forward?”

“Not at all.”

“You did have me at a disadvantage then,” he said. “What with the hauling me downtown in handcuffs _twice._ ” He ponders. “And then you cuffed me twice more, later on, when that sculptor was killed.” He gasps, eyes wide. “Suddenly it’s making a _lot_ more sense.”

She gives him a look of disgust. “Oh, please. That was _not_ about sex.” Well, the first couple of times, anyway.

“Are you sure?” he says happily. “Because for me – ”

“You deserved what you got. And I’ll cuff you again and leave you in the park if you don’t shut up.”

He grins. “Actually, Kate, it’s gonna be _your_ turn in the cuffs tonight.”

***

By the time they’ve had dinner and a glass of wine, she’s had time to work herself up into quite the state of anticipation; not even so much for the sex itself, but to find out what their interpretation of what she’s only read about in books is going to be like. She nuzzles into his ear. “Ready to go upstairs?”

The speed with which he dumps everything into the dishwasher, jams the ice tea back into the fridge, grabs her hand and a brown paper bag, and pulls her up the stairs cracks her up.

***

He locks the bedroom door and his smile fades. “I want you to listen to me very carefully, detective.” He takes a step towards her, reminding her how physically imposing he can be. “Because tonight, your cooperation will make all the difference between punishment.... and reward.” 

A very primal thrill runs through her. He’s advancing again, but she dodges him, reaching behind her for her cuffs. 

Almost before she knows what’s happened, she’s pinned against the wall, her arm twisted up behind her back. He executes the hold perfectly, so it’s only painful if she struggles, just as she’d taught him. His technique can be impressive these days, and when combined with his strength, is more than enough to keep her where he wants her. He conducts a rough, one-handed search, and soon finds the steel cuffs in her back pocket. Both of them are breathing hard now.

“What’s your safeword?” he says.

She thinks. “Kindle.”

Admirably, he keeps a straight face. “Kindle, it is. Now reach up with your free arm, and unbutton your shirt.”

She makes a break for it, but he hauls her away from the wall and wrestles her face down onto the bed. A stinging slap lands on her ass, making her squeak, more in surprise than pain. 

“The more you resist, the harder they get.”

At least she still has her pants on. His hands come down on her shoulders and side like they really mean business, and a dizzying moment later she’s lying on her back while he straddles her, pinning her hands beside her head. She indulges the urge to thrust her hips up against him, but doesn’t get far. He shoves his hand down between her legs, cupping her over the thin fabric of her trousers. She moans. 

He grins. “I want you naked for my inspection.”

“How am I supposed to take my shirt off now?”

He is nonplussed only for a second. He releases her hands and scoots down to sit on her thighs. He crosses his arms, waiting. Smug. She resists the urge to shove him backwards to land on his ass and teach him a lesson. His expression shifts subtly, and he braces himself a little more firmly. 

Slowly, deliberately, she undoes one button. His eyes are fixed on hers, dark, impatient, and predatory. He unfastens one button on his jeans. 

She pops another button, and so does he. And so on, until her shirt is undone, and his cloth-covered arousal is bulging through the opening in his pants. He reaches up and slides his fingers under the front clasp of her bra. She’s really glad she wore this one today. 

He’s lying more or less on top of her now, his forearms beneath her back, supporting and caressing her as he kisses her scar. He always does that; he says it’s in gratitude. 

He parts the fabric of her shirt, kissing all down her chest and over her stomach. When he can go no further, he opens her trousers and pulls the front of her panties down as far as he can, kissing, nuzzling, insinuating his tongue down just far enough to tease. She moans in frustration, fisting the covers. His amusement is evident and infuriating as he moves back up to his starting position and draws a nipple into the warm, wet heat of his mouth. She gasps, straining up against him.

He detaches for a second. “Lie still,” he says, the hard edge in his voice sending a pulse of arousal straight to her core.

Her fingers are all that she can move, and she flutters them helplessly as he holds her down, giving her other nipple a leisurely swirl followed by a hard suckle that goes on and on. 

She groans. “Rick, please.”

Her releases her hands, but not her nipple, as he says around it, “Take my shirt off.”

She reaches up between them and fumbles with the buttons until he sits upright again and finishes the job. 

“Now,” he says, digging into his back pocket, “I’m going to be very nice to you. I’m going to restrain you, so that you don’t have to restrain yourself.” He holds up the shiny cuffs. “Arms above your head, touching the headboard, please.”

The way he’s looking, she’s under no illusion that this is a polite request. She obeys, and experiences the profoundly strange sensation of being cuffed with her own equipment. He loops a tie around the links in the cuffs, and secures the whole thing to the headboard It certainly concentrates the mind, and she is _present_ , not scattered, thinking about yesterday or later, or anything but the fact that she’s helpless and restrained, with him standing there, looking down at her like he’s just won the first prize at the county fair.

He goes to the bottom of the bed and removes her shoes, then comes back up to take hold of the top of her trousers. “Lift your hips.” She does, and he works the trousers down and off, then repeats the procedure with her panties. She’s naked now, but for her open shirt. Heat floods her face and other parts, and she grinds her hips a little.

“Hot?” he smiles. “As in, temperature-wise? Because you’re obviously the other kind.”

“Yeah,” she breathes. “Can I have some water?”

He takes a glass from the side of the bed, and fills it from a pitcher. He brings it to her lips, supporting her head as she takes a few blissful swallows.

“Enough for now?” 

She nods, and he takes a drink himself, before putting the glass on the bedside table. He brushes a hand down her perspiring face. “Shall we try something that’s in one of your books?” He unwraps a condom and sticks his whole, thick index finger into it.

“I don’t remember anybody ever doing _that.”_

“Well, those guys have a dungeon. Also, _fictional._ Whereas, I have a sock drawer.” He smiles. “Next time, I’ll be better prepared. Now draw up your knees.”

“What are you going to – ”

He leans down, his breath tickling her ear as he whispers, _“You’re going to make yourself come while my finger is deep inside your adorable ass.”_

She closes her eyes and takes a shuddery breath. “No.”

“Have you ever tried it?”

She blushes. “No.”

“Well, then.” He moves down to the end of the bed, and his hands on her knees let her know that he will use whatever force is necessary to ensure her cooperation. She begins to fight him a little, but he’s strong, and when he bends each leg up to her chest and slides a pillow underneath her hips to keep her wantonly tilted upwards and exposed, there’s not much she can do about it. She feels herself tensing up already, more in self-consciousness than fear. He notices.

He comes round to the side of the bed, and crouches down. His cool hand presses gently on her forehead, as though he’s checking her temperature. She rubs her thighs together, so incredibly turned on. He watches her struggles, his expression unreadable. “Poor Kate, you’ve had quite a day, and you’re too hot for your own good.” He smiles. “Let’s give you some relief.”

One finger pushes into her vagina, her arousal making it easy. _“Rick. Yes.”_ He has large, capable hands, and his index finger alone is enough to give a pleasurable sensation of fullness. She bucks up against it, trying to deepen the penetration.

“That’s it,” he says thickly, sliding it out, adding another one. “Fuck yourself on my fingers.”

His free hand – apart from the one obscenely wrapped finger which is left sticking out – is busy inside his jeans.

He slides and twists his fingers expertly; even briefly presses his mouth to her clit, licking and sucking her to the edge. He thrusts his tongue in to join his fingers, and she lets out a wail, her body stiffening. Immediately, he pulls away, and she rattles her cuffs in frustration.

His eyes bore into her. “Do you want a spanking?”

She shakes her head. There are other, more urgent matters to be dealt with right now.

“Then behave. I’ll decide when you come.”

He’s coating the condom-covered finger with lube, and she shivers in anticipation. “Can I be on my stomach for this?” It’s bad enough that he’s going to do this; does she have to show her face as well?

“No, I think we need to see each other.” One firm hand spreads her open without further ado, and before she can even recoil in self-consciousness from _that_ , the cool, wet tip of his latex-covered finger presses against her. “Just keep breathing, nice and even, and push out for me.” The pressure increases a little, and she clamps down.

“Rick, I –” She’s struggling to get enough air, pulling against the cuffs.

“Hey, now, nothing to worry about,” he says. “I won’t hurt you.”

He’s pushing hard now, his fingertip just barely entering her body. Suddenly two long, talented fingers fill her vagina and he thumbs her clit. She gasps in surprise, and in the realisation of how close she is to coming. At the same time, his finger’s sliding forwards in a relentless invasion, and it’s too revealing, too _inside_ , and she tries to squirm away. “No, no, Rick, stop,” she pants. 

He stops, but the offending finger stays right where it is. “Am I hurting you?”

“N-no.” She continues to squirm, but can’t get away, and realises that the squirming is only serving to heighten her arousal.

He’s watching her _very_ closely, but she hasn’t used her safeword, she _doesn’t_ want him to stop, and they both know it. Some token resistance is a necessary part of the game sometimes. 

When she stops fighting long enough to register what’s actually happening, she realises that his finger is already deep in her anus, gently doing something halfway between a probe and a fuck. It feels amazing. Her muscles clench around him, trying to draw him deeper still. He gives her what she wants. She gasps, her back arching, as he starts a more rigorous in-out movement.

“That’s it. Good girl. Just relax.”

She looks at him wide eyed, unable to believe how utterly intimate and _sexy_ it feels. 

“I think you _do_ like this,” he says, clearly pleased with himself.

She looks pointedly to the wetness spreading across the front of his straining boxer briefs. “I think you do too.”

He grins, and twists his fingers. Her eyes squeeze shut and all she’s aware of is sensation and energy and _harder_ and _faster._ She comes with a shout, bucking wildly against his hands. 

He gently massages her knees while she calms. “Well, I’d say that was a successful experiment, wouldn’t you?” 

She nods. “How is this cooling me down?”

“Ah. Thank you for reminding me.” He gets up and takes a paper bag off the dresser. “This has been in the fridge a while.”

_”What_ has?”

He reaches into the bag and pulls out a pink silicone butt plug. “Pink for a girl.”

“Is there a blue one, too?”

He smiles. “Yes, but not today.” He’s back between her legs, thoroughly coating the thing with lube. 

“Stop. Take your pants off first,” she says. “It’s not fair that I’m naked and you’re not.”

He considers. “No, it isn’t. Neither is it fair that you’ve already been brought to the heady heights of ecstasy and I haven’t.” He puts on a mock frown. “That’s about to change.” His hand moves out of sight, and she feels a cold, rubbery poke at her anus. 

“I guarantee this will cool you down, detective.”

The plug is tapered, and slides in easily. She cries out at the coldness of the thing, and a chill _does_ run through her whole body, its sweet friction cutting through her resistance as though it were nothing. Until it doesn’t. 

“Easy now,” he says. “This’ll be good for both of us, I promise.”

Her breath hitches, but he doesn’t stop pushing, easing back a little, pushing further, until after a particularly difficult moment, what feels like a little ball pops in through her tight entrance, fully inserted and staying that way, despite her efforts.

“Rick....”

But she’s distracted then, because he’s tearing off his shoes and socks, and dropping his jeans. And then, the moment they’ve both been waiting for, his underwear. As always, she feels a thrill of anticipation, pleasure, and gratitude at seeing the irrefutable evidence of just how much he wants her, how much he wants them to be together, after all they’ve been through.

He does the necessary with a condom, and she spreads her legs in invitation. 

“I’m afraid this won’t take long,” he says, apologetically. “I’ve already almost consummated my relationship with my boxers.”

She laughs. “Come here, Rick.”

With an eager grin, he covers her body with his own, and kisses her hard and deep before reaching down to put himself inside her. The plug in her ass makes it tighter than usual, and both of them let out a moan and have to take a moment so that this isn’t over before it begins.

It doesn’t take long, but he manages to bring her flying over the edge with him.

Afterwards, he gently pulls the toy from her, and then frees her sore wrists and rubs them with arnica to help the bruising. Bruising that she’s going to have to hide under long sleeves for a few days, rather than deal with Ryan and Esposito’s snickering and eyebrow raises. She doesn’t care; it was worth it.

“I’m gonna have to get new cuffs for work,” she says. “These ones are like a souvenir. “It’s like we’ve been somewhere new, and brought them back to remind us.”

“I don’t know about you,” he says, happily, “But I won’t need reminding. I’m already planning next time.” 

Laughing, she kisses him.

End.


End file.
